The Silent Saxleel
by Afazha
Summary: A story of an argonian that turned out to be the Last Dragonborn. He's the younger sibling of the Last Shadowscale Veezara, the story based on the main quest but with some argonian's touch. And of course, Frost vs. Shadowmere. Enjoy
1. Unbound Part 1

Chapter 1: Unbound

At last he has passed Bruma, and now he's dragging his tail on the snowy road towards the border of Skyrim.

Snow, of course . .

This northern province of Tamriel is always famous of its cold snow, harsh tundra, and hazardous weather. Though many would say that "The only thing colder than the snow here in Skyrim is the Nords themselves." Mylinn is, of course, believing that. The Nords, whom are the native people of Skyrim, are known of their hate toward the other races. Obviously they hate Argonians too, that's doesn't matter, I guess, I won't having much of a friend anyway. He stated so, which later he found it the opposite way.

Staring right trough the half-snow fog, he saw lights flickering at the distant, torches, and not just a few, but a lot of them. Suppose that's the border, Mylinn ran to see what's happening. It was the Empire's Imperial Soldier. But they didn't saw the argonian, not yet. They were laughing, speaking of something that made them happy, Mylinn moved closer to hear more.

"At last, we got Ulfric, that traitor and his dogs were ambushed and brought down, now they're coming down here to be executed at Helgen. Ha.. Ha.. Ha.. "

Everyone laugh loudly at it, but at that very moment the gate opened, and more torches appeared, Mylinn take a step back.

"Get yourselves ready soldier!"

"Y-yes, Captain, but what's happening, sir?" ask one of the soldiers.

"Those stormcloak dogs are coming here, hoping they can rescue their master. I want all of you to back our forces on Falkreath hold. Just close the border gate, no one would likely seems to cross tonight."

But before Mylinn could act, voices are heard farther beyond the gate.

"They're coming here!" someone shouted.

Suddenly, Mylinn heard swords sheated, war cries and feet stomping the snow. Those soldiers yelled to each other, then rushed out to battle. Unluckily, one of the Imperial Soldier stayed behind just to close the gate.

"Wait!" the rough voice of an argonian was heard through the trees.

"Someone there?" ask the surprised Imperial, looking around.

Mylinn walked closer, trying to smile and failed.

But before the soldier could see him, something unfortunate happened. A fast arrow struck the Imperial at his back as he was trying to find Mylinn in the dark. The arrow brought him down to the end of his life. Hurrily, Mylinn hid at the side of the gate, waiting for whoever the killer was to leave the area.

Silence fell, and Mylinn decided to move on as no one seems to be around, and the air was getting colder every second. Beyond the gate were a few Imperial camps and a died out fire. As Mylinn walked deeper to the province of Skyrim, he could somehow still hear the distant war cry and grunts, indicating that the fight was still raging between the Imperial soldiers and these "stormcloaks".

Mylinn stood there, too cautious to continue, waiting for something to be happened.

And indeed something happened, but not for the good of him.

While he stood there, a group of Imperial soldiers were coming from the other side of the gate, where Mylinn came. Those men soon saw a person standing alone, obviously not an Imperial in their view. And now they have found the dead body of their fellow soldier near the gate, still half-warm. As their anger grew they moved closer and closer to the argonian.

"Damn lizard, he murdered Levius!"

Mylinn turn around in surprise as he saw the new group of Imperials. But, again, before he could say anything, one of those men smashed his head with the hilt of his sword. But before the poor argonian fallen unconscious, he had a glimpse of a thick black beard of the man who hit him. Then, he fainted.

The Saxleel woke up. At first, Mylinn only felt a terrible headache on the side of his head. Trying to open his eyes, he shook his head a bit. As the pain of his headache faded, his vision slowly became clearer. He found himself sitting in a cart, bounded at the wrists and under guard of the Imperials. As the horse-drawn cart bumped on and on down the winding road, Mylinn realized that he was part of a prisoner caravan.

It was a foggy morning, the air is damp and cold. Mylinn straighten his seat and observed his fellow prisoners, the man in front of him was a nord wearing a blue leather armor, he has the usual tough face of a nord and a long blond hair. On the next of that man was another nord with black hair. And right beside Mylinn was yet another nord, both gagged and bounded.

"Hey, argonian. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right?" the man in front of him asked.

"Yes, I'm merely crossing the border," replied Mylinn.

"But now they caught you, same as us, and that thief over there." the nord said, pointing the black-haired nord with his chin. The man looked at them, he's wearing a roughspun tunic and a pair of footswraps.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." said the thief. Then he looked at the argonian.

"You there. You and me. We shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." Mylinn didn't reply, but he had almost nodded.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." said the Stormcloak grimly.

"Shut up back there!" the imperial soldier whose sitting in front of the cart yelled.

Mylinn remembered the imperial with thick black beard that hit him yesterday. Looking everywhere, he can't find the man, which was good.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" asked the thief, lowering down his voice a bit. The gagged nord didn't respond, as if he could anyway.

"Watch your tongue, thief! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" warned the blond nord. The true High King? Meant? Mylinn wondered.

The thief looked at both of them in astonishment. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You are the leader of the rebellion! B-but, if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?" the thief panicked, realizing his situation.

Then, the stormcloak fighter looked at the argonian, and said "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits..."

That only made the horse thief became more terrified. "No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening."

Silence fell, and the carts of prisoner kept going. After a while, the blond nord said. "Hey, what village are you from horse thief?"

"Why do you care?" the thief just looking at his knees.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." he explained.

The thief looked up by his words, "Rorikstead, I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."

Another silence, when Mylinn looked toward the fog in front of them, he could see the sight of a gate being opened, letting the first cart into Helgen. There were many Imperials soldier around. As Mylinn's cart entered the gate, someone called out. "General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting."

"Good. Let's get this over with!" replied Tullius, the imperial on a horse, he was cladded in a set of Imperial Legion's armor, like the rest of his soldier, but without the helmet on.

Hearing the word headsman, the thief looked to the sky and prayed. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me." It seems your gods won't help you now, poor thief. Mylinn thought, although he's not so sure that he could survive himself.

The Stormcloak frowned his eyes, "Look at him. General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

Indeed as Mylinn peeked, there were three altmer talking to General Tullius,

'The Thalmor'.

A boy's voice can be heard in one of the houses, asking his father. "Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?" but his father only replied. "You need to go inside, little cub."

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers." the boy didn't understand.

"Inside the house. Now."

Haming was that boy's name, he hesitated again to obey his father's order. Only by then he caught Mylinn's eyes looked to his own from the cart. Those eyes were scary from Haming's view, with thin vertical pupils, different than any men or mer. Haming felt like the argonian was watching him, warning him for some reason.

"Yes, papa." said the boy, walking inside.

By then the caravan has arrived at the central of Helgen, and stopped right there. Mylinn saw the headsman, as well as a priestess of Arkay, the god of death.

"Why are we stopping?" asked the horse thief in panic.

The braver nord replied calmly "Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go, shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." the he stood, and began to walk down the cart.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" the thief yelled, but he stood anyway. Mylinn stayed silent, but the other nord said "Face your death with some courage, thief." Following the two Nords down the cart, Mylinn saw two Legion soldiers waiting for them. The first of them was a female imperial, that looks like the captain, by her unique helmet.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" the coward nord stubbornly said.

After Ulfric Stormcloak touched the ground, the second Legion soldier began to call out the names on his list.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." then Ulfric took a step forward.

"Ralof of Riverwood." and the Stormcloak fighter took a step forward.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." that's obviously the thief, "No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" but instead of taking a step forward, he ran as fast as he can, despite his bounded hands. "Halt!" the Imperial Captain yelled.

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir kept running.

"Archers!"

And one of the Legion's archers grabbed his bow and shot him down. After his death, the Imperial Captain called out, "Anyone else feel like running?"

I am, but I can't see any water nearby.

The male soldier looked at him, "Hey you, argonian. You're not on the list, who are you?"

"My name's Mylinn, a citizen from Cyrodill, I come to visit Skyrim, and found myself bounded here." while saying that, he checked again for the imperial with the black beard from yesterday.

"Myleen, eh? Are you a relative of one of the Windhelm dock workers, Argonian?" Mylinn didn't know what to say, but then the soldier asked his captain.

"What shall we do with him? He's not on the list."

"Forget the list, he goes to the block."

What!? Hist curse you, Imperial!

The soldier looked at him again and said, "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Black Marsh."


	2. (Prologue)

Hello

I'm really sorry !

It's almost half a year since I updated my very first fanfic. I apologize to everyone ever read this. And thanks for the reviews, I will improve my English in writing. I did gave up the fanfic because of my bad grammars. But not anymore, I have a new spirit to continue it.

This is not the actual Chapter II of Mylinn's story, this is just a compensation. This scene is a long time after the first chapter. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 0 : (Prologue)

"Calm down, Shadowmere." his voice was rough with anger. And the horse was always restless. Rain poured on them, as they walked side by side toward the city of Falkreath.

_Astrid died_

He could not believe it, would not believe it. Someone as strong as her couldn't died just like that. His anger flashed once more in his heart, and he pulled the horse to walk a bit faster. He wore some random fur armor that he found, to conceal his sacred Shrouded armor beneath it.

And the fur was soaked, for a second he just wanted to throw that armor away and walks lightly again. But no, he needed to go to the tavern, in search for a bit of information. And that's mean that he should never show anyone who he really was.

The gate, there would be a guard posted. It is safer to take the hood off, to avoid suspicion. So he did, then he used the hood to cover Shadowmere's blazing red eyes. The assassin walked fast but calmly, as common people would do in the middle of a light rain like this. When he reached the gate, the guard stared at him. When he stopped, Shadowmere kept walking, the the guard said.

"Go on, do as your horse did, seems like he is smarter than you. You don't want to be as wet as me, standing here."

He got nothing to reply, and didn't want too, anyway. So he walked again, to the inn he went. He hated this town, but it was the closest town around here, so he got no other choice. There, he saw the inn, bigger than any other houses. But first to the stable, so he called out the stableboy that he saw sitting in chair, with sleepy eyes.

"Boy, wake up!"

The boy woke and stood up, surprised.

"I need you to tend to my horse, dry him and fed him. But don't touch this one too much, he's dangerous." he told the boy.

Alone, he walked to the inn's door, he needed to dry himself too. The windows glowing from the fire inside, and voices could be heard. The more crowded it is, the better, since words and tales came from the mouths of people.

The door creaked open, and the voice lowered a little bit, heads turned at the newcomer, drenched and dripping. But soon the conversation is back, louder than before. It is crowded indeed.

The assassin walked slowly to the counter, used his time to listen and dry himself with the heat from the fireplace in the center of the room. He had reach the counter, when he heard someone said, "Murdered in sleep, you say? But, isn't that a common thing in a city as rotten as Riften?" The man chuckled.

"It maybe so, but I'm glad that city is far from Falkreath, so it's unlikely that the killer is around here, right? Right?" He heard a woman said.

"Aye, but who is it again, the one who got murdered?" A bald man replied.

"Grelod the Kind," said Veezara.

"Aye, her. I heard that she was not kind at all." said the first man. "Then someone wanted her dead, and hire an assassin. Is that the way of it?" asked the bald man.

"Assassin? No!" said Veezara, drived by anger. "He's just a lowlife killer, wanted to act cool, killing an evil woman."

The other customers were looking at him now, curious that someone raised voice.

I spoke too much.

Just as he wanted to explain what he was saying, the inn door blasted open. Two man standing at the door, one was the guard at the post. And the other is a nord hunter, both soaked heavily.

"Valdr! You're back!" The innkeeper shouted.

Then many voice spoke together, saying the same thing. People got up from their benches, moving to help the hunter, or asking question.

"Are you alright, Valdr? Where are Ari and Niels?" asked the woman.

"They're.. They're dead," he paused. "I was so lucky," hearing that the woman gasped, "D-dead?"

With a grim face, the innkeeper said, "Come here, Valdr, sit. You got a story to tell."

Veezara decided he had to listen to this story, so he went to sit in a chair near the window.

"At first it was a bear, the three of us tracked him down to his hiding place, in some cavern," said Valdr sadly. The other people were silent, listening to him.

"We got inside, had even cornered the beast.." he paused. "What happen then, Valdr?" asked the woman.

"Th-Then came a strange creature appeared from the trunk of a tree, Spriggans, I was told." he closed his eyes.

"There were five of them then, and they attacked us." he continued. "Ari and Niels were.. they were.." he couldn't go on.

The woman gasped, "We're very sorry for them too, Valdr." said the bald man.

"Bring an ale, innkeeper!" someone called out. The innkeeper went to do it.

Watching the hunter drank his ale, Veezara got bored at the story. But then, Valdr decided to continue it, silence fell again.

"I barely escaped, and injured so badly. Those damned spriggans did not follow me outside, so I can rest a bit. As angry as I was back there, I can't do anything."

"But you looked okay now, something did happen, no?" asked the innkeeper.

"Aye, someone came, a help." replied Valdr.

"Two argonians, I told them what happened immediately. They were so kind, they gave me potions and healed me. One of them tended to my wound, and the other went inside, to clear the cave, he said." said Valdr.

"But you said there were five spriggans?" said a man.

"Of course, I didn't believe it at first, but then I heard shouting from inside the cave, and in no time, that argonian came out of the cave, said he had defeated those spriggans." Valdr looked like he was still amazed himself.

"Before they leave me to bury Ari and Niels, I gave them my lucky knife as thanks." that was the end of the story, Veezara knew. But then the bald man said,

"I heard about an evil person, and a kind person. An assassin, and a savior, they're so different, eh? I hope there are more kind people like those argonians in Skyrim."

"Why don't you be one yourself?" asked the guard, who were silent until now.

Veezara broke, "Did you know where they went?"

Valdr stared at him, his face a tired one, "They said they wanted to make a camp around that cave for tonight."

That was all Veezara needed, he got up and took his leave. Outside the rain was still pouring, heavier than before, but that made no matter. He went to the stable, threw a septim to the boy's head, and pulled Shadowmere out. He rode the horse down the road, back to the gate, the town was quiet, and no one were outside.

Shouting wasn't it? This time it's no mistake. He had heard so much story of this argonian. This Dragonborn, he would rather say. He had heard the greybeards calling from their mountain. Then again, Babette said.. Babette said that Astrid was shouted to death, just like that Ulfric shouted the High King to death.

His rage came so suddenly, outside the gate he took Shadowmere to a gallop, while tearing down the fur armor. He had no worries, as Shadowmere hooves were muffled, and himself, he was invinsible in the darkness, no one could see him. For he is the Last Shadowscale.

I will start continuing Mylinn's Chapter. Thanks.


End file.
